Is it weird that a part of me enjoys embracing pain and sadness?
There's a certain song that I played over and over again many months ago because I thought it was melancholy, but sweet. Lonely, but comforting. I suppose I liked the dismal lyrics mixed with its ironically catchy beat. I sang it to myself, played it on repeat, memorized its every ebb and flow. It became some what of an obsession.
Over the years I have found refuge in music in times of uncertainty, in times of depression, in times of mourning. Usually it's one song in particular. In fact, I think I have a song for each of the major changes in my life. Even though I once listened to them constantly, now that the event has passed and time has elapsed, I can't even recall the last time I listened to one of those "monumental therapists". I guess because I don't want to return to that place of emotional distress. Makes sense.
But this one song floated into my head today as I cleaned out my computer files from this past fall. At first I was excited that I even remembered the song existed. Booyah for rediscovering songs! However as I hummed it to myself and continued deleting files, I remembered why that song had settled in my head. Suddenly I was not excited, but disgusted. I wanted nothing more than to forget the song, and more importantly forget all the memories attached to it.
And yet here I am, listening to it on repeat.
So is it strange that I welcome this pathetically sad and hopelessly romantic song with all of the painful baggage it carries back into my life?
I guess I'll never know why sparrows love the snow.
-A Perspective.
